h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

*sips delicious french and nibbles *

Oh, you are the tempting one.

*sniffs and nibbles a petal*

I suppose a night-time scuttle to a cheap insect infested hotel wouldn't be a bad way to pass the time.

Maybe there'll be some s there. We could start that farm I've always dreamed of. Or something.

*the woman in the doorway leers affectionately.*

Yes. Lets be going. Now.

Do you:
Ask impertinant questions about the connection between the fish and the woman in the doorway? Press Reply.
Follow the fish and hope that the possibility of indecent acts might resurface? Press Reply.
Glare at the tomato stained and hope that it isn't going to follow you any more? Press Reply.
Stop in the street for a quick sand bath? Press Reply.

Oh, ok.

Um, give me just a moment, I'll be back.

*scuttles out to a particularly dusty patch of road, and has a good, fast grit bathing. Scutles back up to table*

Ok, let's be along. We'll find somewhere nice and see about those s.

*Glares around at the tomato encrusted . Tomato encrusted has found a new friend. In the doorway*

Looks like we've lost the overgrown mutton, anyway.

*Stroll along*

Here, this looks like an insect harbouring hotel. Shall we go in? I think so.

So, double or twin? Note the glint.

Do you want to share a bed with your new found prospective paramour? Press reply
Would you rather go back and find the and the French hooker with whom you once spent a memorable night during the war, and share a bed with them? Press reply
Or would you like to take off all your clothes and run screaming through the hotel kitchen? Press reply
Or would you like to take the door on the left, provided you can lift it? Press reply

This door's too heavy to lift. Paris is not like it was during the war. Best get a room.

*notices the glint*

Make it a double. More s per inch to a double.

*the lizard gallantly pays for the hotel room and they settle in to start gathering s and building farm equiptment for them*





Aww. Look at them ploughing the dust into little furrows.

*eventually they fall asleep, exhausted, and the s get bored with ploughing and wander off.*

THE STORY SO FAR....

In the last installment of *Lizard and Fish* The fish followed a shady and disreputable Skink into a dark alleyway where she discovered that she was a long way from home, and that she may be the victim of an inexplicable and convoluted kidnap plot. Or she might just have boarded the wrong train and fallen asleep. While they were talking a figure in the shadows was revealed and subsequently kicked in the proverbials while unconscious. Possibly this person will return to haunt the lizard and fish.

The fish and lizard teamed up, walked, assaulted a sheap in a variety of ways, met an old 'friend', lost some ants, found some ants and never quite got around to those unspeakable acts.

Who can say what will happen in the next gripping installment of *Lizard and Fish*

Will the fish and the lizard get it on?
Will the sheep find happines and a bath with the french pro?
Will the Lizard get that big meal she's been hinting after?
Will the fish be forced to return to the fishwife?

To find out, Press Reply.

*stretches, yawns and opens a BDI*

Paris, France. A wild and windy night has turned into a fog laden morning. I wonder how that fish can breathe?

*considers launching a major scientific experiment. decides on breakfast*

Hey, fish. Fish. FISH. It's day.

How you doin'? Ready for breaky? Want to take some ants? Want to buy that puppy?

So what DO you want to do?

If you want to have your breakfast and eat it, press reply.
If you want to investigate that crawlspace to the left of the bed, press reply.
If you want to catch a plane to Cairo, press reply.
If you want to go back sleep, press reply.

Mmmm breakfast. I'm ravanous. I've only eaten a since I arrived in this country.

*Notices shadowy figure creeping along outside the window*

On second thoughts Cairo sounds lovely and they're bound to feed us on the plane. Best take that crawlspace, and hurry that lesbian you kicked has found us.

*the cheap hotel room door bangs open and the bald lesbian stands framed in the splintered doorway. Fog beads her gleaming scalp and she looks really p****d. She is wearing what looks like a very new woolen hat and smells lingeringly of 'cheap pro' perfume.*

Do you:
Dive for the crawlspace, leaving the fish to fend for herself? After all, when confronted by irate lesbians it's every reptile for herself. Press Reply.
Make a stand and fight for your fish? Press Reply.
Invite the lesbian to stop for breakfast? She looks like she had an interesting night? Press Reply.
Assault the lesbian with an assortmant of animals, grab the fish and make a run for Cairo? Press Reply.

There is only one thing a good fattylizard can do! COme on, my friends, to the rescue!

*suddenly, a multitude of animals leap from all corners of the room*

Fly kittens , fly puppies , fly ponies , fly fishes.

And for my final trick: go go go

That'll learn her. Come on fish, lets scuttle.

Mmmm what a lovely dark dank slimey crawlspace. I think another dust bath after this. I hope there'll be light at the end of the tunnel.

What? No they'll find their way back. Or make a friend. Or a hat (RIP y)

I've always wanted a pyramid. They don't eat lizards in Cairo, do they? I'm sure they won't eat me, I'm so nice. Do you have your passport? I hope the bald lesbian does not.

Any chance of breakfast?

Do you want to chance breakfast? Press reply.
Do you want to hold a memorial service for y? Press reply.
Do you want to investigate the possibility of a tomato-encrusted hat market? Press reply.
Do you want to study hairdressing? Press reply.

*A light does indeed appear at the end of the tunnle, which turns out not the be the end of the tunnle at all. The tunnel forks and there are several possible routs.*

Oh look, it's the . He's got a lamp and he's nekked.

*The Baas meaningfully a few times.*

What did he say? I don't speak .

*The sounds of a lesbian squeezing through a small tunnel are approaching from the distance, adding urgency to the translation crisis. Can the sheep lead the way out?*

Do you:
Translate the s bleatings with casual flair? Press Reply.
Shamefacedly admit that you don't speak either, even though you've associated intimately with them for many years? Press Reply.
Pretend you speak and make something up? Press Reply.
Run to the sheep and hug him passionately, vowing never to leave him again, then leave with him rather than the fish.? Press Reply.

Sheeeeeeeeepy! I thought you were dead. But I see you're just nekked. Well, lucky us. Now. Could you repeat what you were saying only slower? Thanks.

No, can you say it again? You saw twelve dancing yuccas? No, You ate twelve dancing yuccas? Flying yuccas? Sitting yuccas? Rotting yuccas? You ate twelve rotting yuccas? , are you sure I'm getting this right?

He said he ate twelve rotting yuccas. I think his night wasn't so bad after all. have you got anything useful to tell us. Though, thanks for the lamp, like.

Well we're being chased by a bald lesbian, and we're going to Cairo. Yes, I thought tou'd like it there too. Of course, I also thought you were dead, so what do I know.

Yes, she's gaining on us, and not in the good way. Listen.

*slow echoing grunts of a partially stuck lesbian, rolling through the gloom. and a discordant peak.*

Oh, that'll be a kittenmine. *distant sizzle*

There, we've got a few minutes more. Look, , where did you come from? The other end I suppose. Take. Us. Out. Yes. On your back, I'm alizard she's a fish, how heavy can we be. Oh, shucks, I'm not that fat .

Oh, we haven't got time for this. Come on, fish, there's nothing to hold on to mind, but we should outrun the lesbian.

Well...
If you want to try the naked , press reply.
If you want to hold a memorial service for the kittenmine, press reply.
If you want to start applying suntan lotion in preparation for sunnier climes, press reply.
If you want to wake up, press reply.

I'd suggest a minute silence for the kittenmine but I don't think we have enough time.

Come on, lets go.

*Both climb aboard the nekked. Just a few steps down the slimy crawlspace the fish falls back off.*

It's no good. You've got prehensile digits. I've just got fins.

You'll have to hold on to the with my tail in your mouth.

And no nibbling.

Don't suppose your spit has a uv protection factor?

Will you:
Answer the fish, thus dropping her? Press Reply.
Mumble incoherantly and chance biting the fish's tail? Press Reply.
Nudge the sheep to go faster and hope the wool brain knows where it's going? Press Reply.

*mimes a yes, holding tightly to the slippery fish. unavoidable little nibbles occur. silent, bodily urging goes on. hopes the fish will manage. upside down suits her. suddenly, with a whooping, the flies out of a tunnel, some thirteen feet up a very attractive French wall. unlucky for some. inadvertant screaming leads to a dropped fish*

OH MY GOD, YOU STUPID BLEEDING OVINE

*lands*

*say a little prayer* thankyougodforinventingfatpeople

Fish? Are you ok? I landed on a rather fine stomach, so I'm ok. The bounces anyway, but where are you?

*a suspicious glinting comes form the vent from whence you came. the lesbian peers out*

HIDE!!!

*lizard scuttles in circles, attempting to find the fisha and hideaway at once. the lesbian peers some more*

AAAAAAARGGGGHHHHHHHHH

*a fall, the loss of her fish, a peering lesbain and a slight bump on the head are too much. the lizards faints*

So, where have you gotten to? Will you:

Take this opportunity to go home to the fishwife? Press reply.
Follow the sound of Fattylizard's voice? Press reply.
Follow the sound of the bouncing ? Press reply.
Faint, due to a fall, the loss of your lizard, a peering lesbian and a slight bump on the head? Press reply.
Find a passing doctor to commit you, and take you away from all this? Press reply.

*Fish recovers senses to find that bruised fin has been reinjured by fall, which was broken somewhat by a lavish bed of tulips. Peers out from beneath a clump of said tulips and takes in the scene, including the sight of the lesbian, woolen capped slipping out of the vent.*

Oh C**P.

*Notices the comatose reptile and the nekked , which has, in appropriately french farce style, bounced up onto the striped canope of a nearby cafe.*

How did you get up there mutton brain? No don't eat that. Look, just stay still. No, don't even bounce. I'll get you down just as soon as I deal with the lesbian and wake the lizard up.

*Prepares to emerge from among the tulips and face the lesbian single finned. Emerges at speed. Runs into large fat woman*

Oh excuse me, um, I mean pardonnez moi.

*She trails off into silence. The fat woman is not listening. She's berating the lesbian at length, in french. The fish understands little but can gather that the woman is not happy to have been hit by falling livestock and blames the lesbian. Not unreasonable since she's the only other human involved in the scene*

Oh right, I'll just take my lizard and the fish and be going.

*pulls the fish along to the canopy.*

Right . You can jump down now.

* jumps innocently down from the canopy and the fish puts the sleeping lizard up onto her back for safe keeping.*

Lets get going. Which way is the airport?

*as they depart the lesbian tries to push past the fat woman and follow them. The fat woman does not take kindly to this and whacks her with a roll of gut. The lesbian is knocked out. The fat woman smacks her with a baguette and waddles off rubbing at the hoof marks in her left boob.*

Do you:
Wake up in time to see the finali and cheer? Press Reply.
Wake up and stop for that vigarous dust bath you promised yourself? Press Reply.
Start to snore and have an extended 60s influenced psychodelic dream sequence? Press Reply.
Or you could kick your back leg compulsively and make little yipping noises, giving the impression that you are dreaming about chasing rabbits. Press Reply.

Fish? Is it really you? Oh, fish you saved me. Where's the lesbian now? What? Where?

Well, gosh. Hurrah for the fat woman, and the assaulting properties of a well aimed gut!

Fish, I think our troubles may be over! For now, anyway. Umm, where are we going? For a plane, oh great.

I don't think we'll need tickets as such, but it will be useful if you have your passport.

Are you sure it's this way? It looks a bit rustic. Isn't that a merry wench? Where the hell are we now? Why don't we try to find a paved surface?

Do you:
Fall off the for staring at the wench? Press reply.
Berate the lizard for not trusting your navigation? Press reply.
Burst into tears at her lack of trust? Press reply.
Call to the wench and order ale and hearty pasties? Press reply

Gosh isn't she buxom.

Oh I think this is the medieval part of town. Yes, yes I'm sure I read a tourist brochure about it once.

Ther's the medieval wall. And there's a medieval mangy dog. A medieval witch. A medieval knight is oh so shiny armour. A quaint medieval lepper and oh, look, a bit of him just fell off.

Oh.

Yes.

Very...authentic.

B****r.

Do you:
Backtrack to modernity and hope that there hasn't been some sort of temporal thingumy? Press Reply.
Have that bath, since all the roads seem to be unpaved and quite dusty? Press Reply.
Kick the lepper to see if his leg will fall off? Press Reply.
Barter with the wench for a meat pie or more presonal services.

If you wish to barter will you swap:
The pillow mints you stole from the hotel? Press Reply.
The lizard? Press Reply.
The ? Press Reply.
Your antique signed copy of the communist manifesto? Press Reply.
Other? Press Reply.

Oh christ. Well, make the most of what one has.

*lizard slides to the floor, rolls around, and emerges cleaner*

Well, I'd like to be in a less medieval place, but I haven't had my breakfast. Shall we get that pasty?

*a headcount reveals a unanimous YES. approach the buxom wench*

Bonjour. J'ai une signed copie de la manifesto communiste. Avez-vous un pastie grand pour moi, ma poisson et notre ?

'Une lizarde. C'est bon, et tres tasty.'

Oh christ.

Non. Je suis une lizarde poissonesse. Manger la lizarde interdit. J'ai une copie de la manifesto communistique pour vous. Oh, et cette chocolats de menthe. Pour vous. Pastie pour moi, et mes amies. Sil-vous-plait?

*merry wench laughs uproriously. then she whips several pasties out of her knicker, and takes the proffered goods. Retire to a shady spot devoid of people to eat breakfast.*

We didn't need to go to Cairo. They eat lizards here. You know, I think we maybe should disguise you. Not only are you being chased by a bald lesbian from the future, provided she survives, but I'm sure you're very nutritious, especially to people of this timeframe.

*leper wanderes by, collecting himself*

Definately.

Will you walk away backwards, hoping to get out? Press reply.
Will you attempt to disguise yourself with native crafts? Press reply.
Will you get drunk on mead? Press reply
Will you be served with chips, and a light fruity red? Press reply

Right. If we're going to make a daring but ill advised attempt to escape from this time line I'm going to need a disguise.

*Plunges into a gnarly and shapeless pottery mug of mead and drains it*

Right, hic. How do you like my dishgise?

*blank stares from lizard and sheep. Interested look from hungry lepper.*

'm supposed to be a pickled herring. mebbe soused or summat. Now we gotta walk back 'n we'll be...y'know...back.

*fish falls over sideways proving the inaccuracy of the phrase 'drinks like a fish'*

Will you:
Find something with which to strap your inebriated friend onto the and make a run for it? Press Reply.
Seek solace in the bosom of the wench? Press Reply.
Try to sober the fish up? Press Reply.
Sit in the street, kick your legs and cry? Press Reply.

Oh christ.

*sobs a little. Leper watches with interest, gets comfortable, and whips out some grubby popcorn*

Oh, christ. COm on , give me a hand. I want you to go and make friends with that wench. Then I want you to knock her out and steal her garter. Then we'll strap the fish to you. Lucky that wench is so buxom. All over. *sigh*. Well, come on then.

* leaves. lizard sits and fidgets, occasionally hissing at the leper, whenever anything gets to close. distant bleating. distant excited bleating. closer bleating. *

That was fast. But you are a boy . Right, prepare for the strapping.

*comatose fish is hoisted onto less than thrilled . time's a wasting, and they all plungs into the woods. After some minutes of thrashing and headbutting trees, they emerge onto a moonlit hilltop.*

I see its night again. Now, when are we?

Do you:
Vomit over the nice clean ? Press reply
Cry for your mother? Press reply
Peel an eye open and hangover for Britain? Press reply
Sleep off your haze in your lizards arms? Press reply

*Fish opens a red rimmed red filmed eye and looks blankly at the lizard.*

Mummy?

Urgh.

*vomits over who sniffs curiously at the sloppy mess coating its side. Fish slithers into lizard's arms.*

I like you, you're nice. I don't feel very well.

*starts to cry. Starts to huccup. Starts to giggle. Stops all three abruptly*

Wanna snuggle?

*Fish goes to sleep in lizard's arms and snores drunkenly.*

Three weeks have passed. Fish, lizard, and assorted menagery have sucessfully escaped from medieval France, indeed from France all together and the fish is finally sober, having sworn off alcohol after some bad experiences with mead.

A brief discussion was held and it was decided that sunny climes were called for. So fish lizard and assorted livestock travelled afar and set themselves up in a small greek tavern on the barbarian tourist route.

Gin soaked and sunburned they have found happiness for the moment. But anything could happen.

Will the fish and lizard have a falling out and go their seperate ways?

Will the write to that parisian pro and invite her over for a job as tavern wench.

Will the mysterious lesbian or the fishwife turn up?

Will someone eat some bad tarramasalata?

All will be revealed in Lizard and Fish go Greek!

*Wakes up again to a beautiful sunny morning. Throws out of bed.*

Fish? Where are you? Fish? FISH?

*Fish is nowhere to be seen. starts to panic frantically*

FISH?????

*door opens, and enters fish. With breakfast*

Fish!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I thought you had gone I thought you were missing I thought you'd been stolen I'm glad you're alright.

*pauses, panting a little*

okay, I'm better now. Shorter today, I think. Breakfast, let me guess. Olives?

*lizard, and settle to their foodstuffs. All is silent bliss, as has been the last three weeks....Muffled, a distant rumbling is heard. It comes closer...*

Do you:
Think it is the plumbing? Press reply
Think it is the lizard? Press reply
Have ANOTHER olive? Press reply
Think it is the lesbian and runa away with all of your friends and aquatences, getting into scrapes in various countries and millenia? Press reply